The Fantasy: Last Chapter

There was that word comfortable again. Somehow every time I heard it, I got a little uncomfortable. But by the action and attitude of the old woman in the shop, being comfortable was what it was all about.

Jocelyn looked around carefully and selected a lite and breezy piece of fabric which I presumed to be a sarong and a woven grass bag. I had put money in a water tight pouch in my trunks for the day and as I finished paying for the two items, I found Jocelyn standing naked behind me, dropping the bottoms of her bikini in the bag. She wrapped herself with the fabric which only disguised her nakedness, not covered it. She then took the bag and held it open looking at me saying, "Your turn."

I was flustered. I had thought about being naked on the beach if Jocelyn was willing, but I really hadn't counted on it being quite so open. I quickly looked around for the shop keeper, but she had turned back to her unpacking. I think seeing Jocelyn, she knew I needed some privacy. I pulled off my loose shirt, slipped off my shoes and for the first time in my life pulled my pants down in a public place. I was so self conscious of being exposed that I felt as though I ought to reach down and cover myself. I looked at Jocelyn, who was laughing in derision. I decided if she could do it, so could I. I picked up my trunks and put them in the bag. Took a deep breath, took Jocelyn's hand and was ready to go.

The shop keeper's voice caught us at the door. "Dearie, if you want people to stare, wear the sarong. You'll attract a lot less notice if you just get comfortable."

Comfortable! I was naked as a jay bird, but it was my turn to laugh as Jocelyn looked at her sarong and reluctantly untucked it from under her arms, folded it up and dropped it into the bag. We both swallowed hard and walked out nude onto the nude beach.


We walked briskly at first toward the south wanting to get into the "comfortable" crowd so that we didn't stand out as much as we thought we would. Quickly we saw people standing, and some laying on lounges and under umbrellas all as naked as we with one obvious exception. They were a bronzed tan and we both were painfully white.

We saw a number of groups of men and women of every description all in their birthday suits, some of which needed ironing badly. We say young and old and I was a bit nervous at seeing some of the teenage and younger girls with their breasts just sprouting and not yet in need of shaving. The teenage boys some of whom reached puberty and their manhood attested to the hormonal stimulus and some who were not yet developed.

There were young men of whom even I was impressed and old men so wrinkled and grey that you wondered if they could still "stand at attention." Women were of the same variety. Small breasted and large breasted and droopy breasted with bushy coverings and some like Jocelyn, cleanly shaved to look like the girls.

The first 10 minutes was almost sensory-overload and I kept checking to make sure that I hadn't begun to exhibit the arousal that was flooding my mind. But as I looked, I knew that Jocelyn had nothing to be ashamed of in this group. She walked, looking and holding my hand tightly, with her breasts thrust high. I looked at her and she read my mind, "Don't worry you look good!"

We found a spot under and umbrella, remarking that it wouldn't do for us to go home sunburned in strategic places. It would be hard to explain how your butt got burned in an indoor conference. There were others close by and a very bronzed woman lay with sunglasses hiding her eyes as though there was nothing else to hide.

We saw people playing in the surf. Watched as the women's breasts and the men's manhood bobbed and flopped as they played. We watched for a while and then joined the throng in the surf and we both took note of each other's bobbing and flopping. We found our way out into the bay about chest deep and Jocelyn turned to me and hugged and we kissed. Without moving from the hug she swung her hips and her legs clamped around my waist. She moved against me and whispered, "This is such a turn on!"

I was erect in an instant, but I panicked.

"Jocelyn, I can't now. If I get hard now, I don't know if I can cum here. If I don't it will be embarrassing to walk back to the beach."

She moved against me, wanting to sink herself onto me, but the water washed away the lubrication and all it did was to rub her. Finally she said, "OK, but I want you later."

We stayed until I was no longer standing, but I know I hung longer than I had when we went into the surf. As we walked out I was worried that others might notice, but they were intent upon their own interests.

As we walked back to the umbrella, Jocelyn spied the restroom facilities just back from the beach. I asked if she wanted me to come with her, she said "no" and she was off.

I got comfortable and the naked bronzed woman with the sunglasses said, "You and your daughter are a cute couple."

I flash, "She's not my daughter." I think it said too quickly. In that split second I realized that she could in fact have been my daughter. The knowledge of it had been there from the first meeting in the conference, but at each moment as we got involved it got buried further and further in my feelings.

The bronzed woman responded, "I thought not!"

Angrily I snapped, "What makes you think that?"

She pulled her sunglasses down to look over the top. There is something unnerving about a woman who is looking at you across bronzed breasts and dark nipples and a bush that is fully exposed in your direction.

"You aren't a student of women are you?" she said.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that young woman's labia is so distended that she has spent the day in high arousal and has probably increased it while you were the water."

"That's being forward don't you think?"

"Just making an observation. You have been looking at my labia since you arrived and they aren't protruding. Watch your young lady when she returns." With that she pushed her sunglasses back up on her face and lay back.

I wasn't sure if I was angry or fascinated, or perhaps both. I glanced up to see Jocelyn walking back almost to the umbrella and sure enough I noticed how far down her lips were distended. I squirmed and stood and as she settled under the umbrella, I told her it was my turn to visit the facilities.

I was glad that I faced away from the beach on the walk to the toilet. I realized that I was at least half hard, but I rationalized that I could blame it on the need to relieve myself. I stood in the toilet and had to will myself to soften before I could relieve myself, but through it all I realized just how much more Jocelyn was like the girls on the beach and not the women. High breasted, tight skinned, and as cleanly shaven as any maiden who had never sprouted the coverings of a woman.

I shook my head, the thoughts were incestuous or at least lecherous. I was a man almost twice Jocelyn's age. Old enough to have sired her. It left my head reeling.

I walked back to the umbrella and saw Jocelyn with her bag waiting for me. I was relieved because I knew I was ready to go. I saw a bit of tense smile on her face and wondered if the bronze woman had spoken to her too.

We walked a bit and I said, "You OK? Did that woman say something to you?"

"What would she have said?"

"She was very forward and nosey about us."

I glanced over at Jocelyn as she didn't respond and the first thing I noticed was that she was carrying her bag in front of her.

"She said something didn't she?" I quivered with anger.

"Yes" Jocelyn said quietly.

I shook in rage, wanting to go back and deal with that naked bronze wench who thought it her business to to speak the unspeakable?

"Honey, are you OK?" I asked.

"Yea, embarrassed that I was so exposed."

I hugged her, but carefully. We were both naked on a nude beach, but I was now conscious of not holding her breasts to me. I realized that I had hugged my daughters in much the same way.

"It's my fault because of this morning." I said. "I had no idea that it would keep you swollen all day."

There was a mixture of truth and lie in my words. I knew it would cause her lips to be swollen and I had gloried in it throughout the day. But I was in free fall and my words seemed to just seem to be appropriate rather than right.

I held the bag and said, "Here, let me hold the cloth while you get dressed for the walk back."

It was a stupid thing to say. But she responded and with the cloth which hid nothing held up she put on her bikini bottom and her top and turned to wrap herself with the material.

I quickly slipped on my trunks without worrying who might be looking and slipped on my shirt and we walked back to the hotel, holding hands but without talking.

At the hotel, I offered her the shower first but she said, "No, I want to primp a bit. You go ahead and you won't have to wait on me."

I pursed my lips and wanted to speak but the heart wasn't in me.

I showered quickly and when I came out I asked, "Do you want to go out for supper or have it brought in?"

"Let's eat here by the window?"

"OK I'm going to walk down and see what really looks good before I order. Take your time." and I kissed her. I kissed her on the lips but it was a gentle kiss with no lust in it. I felt like I had exposed her to some great hurt in the words of the bronzed woman. I wandered down to the lobby.

I sat on the veranda and was true to my intent. I watched and asked the recommendations and the favorites on the menu. I found the waiter and left my instructions with our room number.

I walked about in a bit of a fog. I finally shook my head. "This isn't right. We've settled this! We settled it before we made love the first time!" I shook off the feeling and determined to put this aside.

Supper

I arrived before Jocelyn came out of the bathroom, or perhaps she had waited for me. She stepped into the room with her hair fixed and her make up and wearing only the sarong from the beach. It took my breath away. I could see her as plainly as we had been on the beach, but the material was mesmerizing.

She had settled her self and played coy to my compliments but moving so that she was outlined against the large full length window facing the ocean. It took only moments for the knock on the door to announce that our meal was being served. I looked at Jocelyn to see if she was going to withdraw into the bathroom while the waiter brought the large tray into the room. She posed herself leaning against the side of the window while he brought the tray into the room and pulled the table to the place she pointed in front of the window.

She seemed to have regained her footing because she grinned wickedly at me the whole time the waiter nervously set out the meal. I gave him an outrageous tip knowing that she had made him uncomfortable to tease me.

At every point, Jocelyn took control of the meal and the conversation. It was lighthearted and with laughter. We even teased about the walk on the nude beach, but no mention of the bronzed woman.

There was music drifting up from the lounge that was apparently becoming a disco for the evening. The beat was Caribbean and it was not the music of a dance but a pulse. Jocelyn began to move as she sat and ate. Watching her in that shimmering cloth accentuated the pointedness of her nipples and the sway of her hips.

She soon stood and took my hands and said, "Dance with me."

I stammered, "Jocelyn, I can't dance."

Without answering she held my hands up as far as hers could reach and she moved against me, bumping me with her pelvis in tempo with the music. Soon the music did what I couldn't, moving us in what might have been called a dance. Others might have called it vertical foreplay.

I could tell at a glance that her nipples were stiff under the fabric. Her eyes were a half glazed look that was concentrated on only one thing. She moved against me with an insistency. She was in control of this moment. She moved up and down me with the music and I was hard and obvious. She stepped back and danced with the movement of a woman who knew what she was doing to a man.

She reached as she danced and began to unbutton my shirt. I reached for the tuck of the sarong on between her breasts, but she moved my hand with a fluid motion. Torturously, she removed my shirt and then as slowly she slipped my slacks from my hips. It was an eternity of waiting as I arrived as naked dancing before her as we had been on the beach that day. She would not come any closer to me than to let the head of my manhood rub lightly against her upper belly as she danced and the folds of the fabric caught it as she moved.

Her hands caught the fabric where my erection had pulled it slightly open and each time she moved against me she held it more and more open until at last I could see the soft belly as my glistening head passed over her.

My excitement from the day flooded into my loins and I knew that if we just kept moving the way we were, I would leave her dripping with my fluids from her belly. Several times I had to will myself to let the urge pass until she reached up and pulled at the tuck of the fabric and let the breeze through the window float the thin material away from her body.

She moved close to me, pressing my erection between us until I knew my leaking fluids had marked both our bellies. Her nipples seemed on fire and cut into my chest as she moved them and her mouth at last demanded mine. We kissed and I was lost in her mouth. I enveloped me as it had my manhood that morning and her tongue filled my mouth as her lips had done that morning. She was in constant motion against me and I knew I couldn't last much longer. She would not move with me toward the bed, but putting her arms around my neck she raised one leg and on tip toe curved it around my hip bringing her wet center against me.

I cupped her bottom and as I balanced her weight, her other leg curled up and locked around my hips. Both hands were pulling her up and without having to be centered, my erection found the opening to her depths. I was surprised that I could balance us with her moving, riding my erection up and down. She didn't seem to notice but was focused on the act of mating. She moved with the tempo of the music and in spite of my blood lust of feeling her stroke me with her wetness, I knew I couldn't keep us both standing.

Without stopping, I moved us to the bed and with myself buried into her to the very fullest, I knelt with one knee and moved her onto the bed. Her legs remained locked around my hips and she thrust herself onto me even while I moved her towards the center where I could brace myself to turn my sexual attention to possessing her.

My thrusting became manic as I lost all sense of timing and tempo with the music. She was mine to be possessed and I was determined to possess all over her. I could feel myself slicing into her with the slapping of my balls against her bottom. Somehow this wasn't love making, it wasn't even animal mating. It was something else a quest or a mountain to climb. I was breathing in a pant and from deep within me came the chant, "Oh baby, oh baby, oh baby."

At the crescendo as I knew I was filling her with part of me claiming her marking her with my fluids. She gasped, "O Daddy!"

I froze even as I continued to shoot white hot robes of my fluids into her.

This was not love making, it was incest. She knew it in her heart and so did I. It was unspeakable but it was what it was. I had possessed her with the same domination of a father who deflowers his daughter.

We fell on the bed beside each other panting and gasping.

She started to speak and I put my hand into hers and said, "Not now this is too much to handle right now!"

"You know it's not! I'm not!"

"Not my baby?" I said. In a pant I said, "I know that, but right now I don't know what to think about it."

She rolled over and put her finger on my lips.

"No more talking now!"

Somehow we drifted off into sleep and I wish I could say with was a dreamless sleep, but this thing wouldn't settle in my mind.

The next day we got up and it seemed that both of us were determined not to let the issue arise. We dressed and ate and caught a cab into Philipsburg to shop. We had to be careful. There were none of the tourist treasurers to be bought and then explained when we got home to spouses that knew they were not bought at a business conference. The day was climaxed when at last we chose a set of silver ear hoops for Jocelyn. She wanted me to choose something, but I could find nothing that would do without making it a problem. I, at last, choose a coin from St. Martin's to put with in my change. It was close enough to the size of a quarter dollar that I could simply explain it as someone's mistake in making change.

The evening was a lovely, polite time as we walked on the beach barefoot in the surf at sunset. At bed time after fresh showers, I opened my arm to her and she cuddled on my shoulder and for the first time since we had met, I was not consumed with the need to have her. There was a closeness that was almost mystical.

The Return to Reality

The early morning brought the transitions to the airport and the schedule back to reality. She had rinsed and freshened the loose skirt, but I knew that in her roll on was the business pants suit that she would change into at the Atlanta airport. It was at those the loose dress was the last, lingering vestige of our time that had disappeared.

The flight brought us closer to the reality from which we escaped three days ago. There was a somber feeling and we seemed to cling to each other to ward it off. There was not much talk and no laughter. Jocelyn sat curled up to me and my arm around her shoulder.

As we got closer, I knew we had to talk.

"Do you know what we are doing right now?" I asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Look at us, the way we are sitting."

A long quiet followed and then a still voice that whispered, "Can I be your little girl for just a little bit longer?"

And I hugged her close and kissed her head and knew that something had changed or may be I had changed or that the bronze woman had cursed us with a dose of reality.

I had never looked beyond the expectation of wanting Jocelyn. She was intoxicating and something drove me to want to possess her. Was it her youth? Was I searching for my own lost youth?

I sat knowing that I would never leave my family to take her, nor would I be her prince to carry her off on a white horse. The old phrase about ships in the night haunted the recesses of my mind.

She looked up at me and said, "Things have changed haven't they?"

"Yes, and I don't know how."

We began to talk. There was no argument because we both knew that something, somehow had changed and denying it was a useless endeavor. Somehow as we talked, we came to terms with the change and found a peace in it. The last few moments were a bonding of hearts, knowing that something had passed between us that would never be again, but that would be treasured in the secret places of our hearts.

We walked off the plane and held each other. We were painfully aware that it was not two lovers who were parting, but as anyone who watched would have thought a father and daughter were bidding farewell.

I hugged her and kissed the side of her face near her eye. I could taste the salty tear and knew that my own were blurry with my own tears. They were not tears of grief for a lost love, but a parting that somehow would never be reconciled.

I knew she wanted to say, "Call me."

But with the realization unspoken, we both knew it wouldn't happen. We would look at our cell phone and think about it. Try to justify it as just being friends. But what we had shared would never work its way into those things and to try to have more of it would only cause us to loose what we had.